The Pale Mist
The parchment lay flat on the oak desk, the ink still wet and glistening under the tallow light. It was a bill of sale for a parcel of land in the north, signed with the King’s seal, but the words seemed to squirm under my gaze, the letters blurring into shapes that suggested theft and blood. I dipped my quill, the nib scratching against the fiber as I prepared to transcribe the royal...
0 Commentarios 0 Acciones 1 Views 0 Vista previa